Page 11 of Patio Lanterns

For the next few minutes, they ate in silence. The only sound was Mutt’s happy lips smacking as Robin fed him a few more morsels. “Would you believe Parker told me to just leave him on the side of the road like some piece of trash?”

Rick’s jaw dropped. “What?”

“When the band went home, no one wanted to take Mutt with them,” she said, her voice quivering. “Parker told me to just drive out to the country and leave him there, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I mean, I did try to find him a new owner. I stopped at gas stations, a farmer’s market, and a burger stand looking for someone else to take him.” She sighed. “But I felt so guilty it made me sick. Literally. In the end, I just didn’t have the heart to abandon Mutt.”

“Because, unlike Parker, you actually have a heart,” Rick told her. “Surely, you’ve got to see that he’s nothing but a narcissistic dick.”

“Who?” she questioned. “Mutt?”

Rick scowled. “No, Parker.”

“Parker? Oh uh, no,” Robin corrected. “It’s she. She’s a narcissistic dick.”

“Who?” Christ, they were caught up in a frickin’ Abbott and Costello routine.

“Parker.”

“You mean… Parker’s a woman?” Whoa.

Robin tapped her phone and turned the screen around for him to examine. “That’s Parker,” she said, pointing to the all-girl band’s brooding lead singer, who was taking up the most space in the group photo.

“Oh. That’s not the asshole I was picturing when you mentioned your ex being a hard-partying rock star,” he said. “Nor do you seem, well…”

“Well?” She raised her eyebrows and smiled, ready for him to stick his other foot in his mouth.

“It was just the way you were talking earlier. About me. When I went swimming? It sounded like you liked what you saw…” Jesus fucking Christ, you sound like such a dork.

“Trust me, I did,” she said. “I’m really not into labels. Men, women. I’m attracted to who I’m attracted to.”

A strange mix of intrigue and relief washed over Rick. At least his instincts hadn’t been totally off. He was pretty sure he’d picked up on something between them. The flirty banter for starters. Plus, she’d been licking her lips in a sultry way, and he had a hunch it had nothing to do with enjoying the steak. Especially not when paired with those major eyes she’d been giving him across the table.

One thing he was sure of, he wanted their evening to continue. He wanted to spend more time in her company, discovering more about what made her tick. The new development certainly made Robin even more of an enigma—sweet but salty, strong-willed with a soft vulnerability, a head for business and a body for… Jesus, cut that out, will ya?

After giving Mutt the last scraps of steak off his plate, Rick searched for an excuse, any excuse, to entice Robin to stay a little longer. He emptied the last of his beer and set the bottle down before clearing his throat. “What would you say to sitting around a fire and maybe sharing a bottle of wine?”

Her eyes gleamed as a smile lit up her face. “Definitely.”

6

Robin

Flame-licked logs crackled and glowing embers sparked as Rick added more wood to keep the fire going. They’d moved their conversation to the backyard pit an hour earlier, and the warmth was spreading through Robin in more ways than one.

They’d already polished off one bottle of wine and were working on their second. The naughty grapes were doing a number on her inhibitions. As the night went on, she found herself fixated on Rick’s mouth, his soft, supple lips increasingly becoming a distraction. She imagined tracing them with her tongue, before delving into a slow, sensual kiss that lasted until morning.

But her growing attraction wasn’t solely carnal. Yes, he was handsome, but he was also funny, charming, and a great listener. He seemed genuinely interested in everything she had to say. She wasn’t used to being with anyone so attentive. He’d carried her chair to the firepit, refilled her glass before she asked, and offered up one of his jackets in case she felt a chill. The thoughtfulness he’d shown had been a bit unsettling before it dawned on her that she’d gotten so used to being around sloppy, immature jerkwads, she forgot what it was like to be with a gentleman.

Whether it was being around his manly charisma, or knowing she’d already had a sneak peek of him au natural, she had a warm tingle between her legs that made it difficult to sit still. She shifted, squeezing her thighs together as she snuck a glimpse at the bulge in his jeans, wondering what he was packing. What it must feel like to be surrounded by those big, strong arms. To taste his skin. To be spread out beneath him. To fuck him senseless. And there was no doubt in her mind that this high-quality man was totally, completely, entirely fuckable.

She’d always had a hankering for well-seasoned man meat, but never got a taste—although not from lack of trying as her bewildered art history prof found out when she tried to tap that. But Robin was more than up for it now. Surely, a worldly, experienced man like Rick was a fucking wizard in the sheets. He used to be a pro baller, for godssake.

“Don’t you get lonely out here all by yourself?” she asked him.

“I enjoy the solitude,” he said, settling back in his chair. “I’m not afraid of being alone.”

“Alone is one thing, lonely is another.” She reminded him with a sly smile. “So that doesn’t exactly answer my question.”

“Do I get lonely? Sometimes. But then I chop wood and that takes my mind off it.”

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